


Touch

by Stigitsune_shipper



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Hugs, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, I just wrote this because feels, M/M, One Shot, Other, Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Touch-Starved, Touchy-Feely, ahhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:22:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23530771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stigitsune_shipper/pseuds/Stigitsune_shipper
Summary: Aziraphale is not touch-starved. No. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not at all.Angels don't need hugs, after all... Or books. Or food. Or demons.Sadly, Aziraphale was never a good angel. And sometimes you break down.---Basically just a soft h/c one-shot I wrote because Heaven is shitty and Aziraphale needs hugs.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 296





	Touch

Aziraphale wasn't touch-starved.

Not really. Angels didn't get touch-starved, not like humans did. They didn't need to touch other angels, or humans or whoever else. Touching was something humans did. Something needles for selfless angels to be bothered with.

Every respectable angel knew that. The same way they knew you shouldn't talk to demons, or eat human food when it was highly unnecessary to dirty your celestial body like that. Or that you shouldn't enjoy fruitless human books. All of this stuff was for humans.

They were angels. Ethereal beings making good deeds under the shine of Her love. They didn't need to eat, or to be touched, or get sleep. They didn't want to do those things. It wasn't their place to like frivolous human things like nice clothes or drawing or reading.

That was for humans. And demons – of course.

So logically, Aziraphale couldn't be touch-starved. The same way he could never get tired or hungry.

And yet…

Yet…

He sometimes looked at the other angels and wondered what made them the ones so close to Her. When they especially liked to preach about obedience and acceptance and good, glorious deeds, when everything they did was simply cold.

Not affectionate, or nice, or even just kind. They did what they were supposed to – so yes, they did miracles for humans, but somehow it was always – hey, look at me, I'm so great, right? I did this for you, be eternally grateful to me, bye!

But no, no, Aziraphale shouldn't be thinking about this. It was insulting towards the other angels. They were doing good deeds, after all. He shouldn't judge them…

And yet, nowadays, he looked at Heaven and saw only a vast, empty white space. A cold space. A lonely one.

Because having pets was a luxury angels didn't need. Because having books was a luxury angels didn't need. Because having nice and cosy and pretty looking things was vanity. Because somehow, getting close to somebody was also something angels didn't need.

Sometimes, it made Aziraphale depressed. Not really because those rules existed; he knew most of them were made up by the current Archangels, so he did what he felt like She wanted him to do and stayed away from them. No, what made him sad, was that no one in Heaven seemed to agree.

At least for the past 6 millennia or so.

It wasn't like that before, though. Not before the big Revolution happened and Heaven decided to create new rules.

Maybe this was Aziraphale's punishment. For liking nice clothing and stacking his place with books and still wanting more of them and eating food just because it tasted good. Maybe this was his punishment for not going along with the others.

Because Aziraphale remembered the time. Before. He remembered Heaven which never had to turn against their own and he sometimes wished he hadn't.

And maybe this was his curse. This was his punishment for his gluttony and materialism. Remembering.

But the fact was, even if he wished he didn't, he remembered. And, well… well it wasn't as if he could tell this to anyone, or even wanted to, not really and he didn't think so, it was just a very brief and passing thought (that appeared once or twice every 5 years) but maybe… really, only maybe…

Heaven might have been a better place, back then.

It had been warm. And nice. And everyone was so kind. And affectionate. He remembered dancing with the other angels (until dancing was deemed demonic and absolutely-not-good-for-angels) and singing songs and grooming each other's wings. He remembered the hugs and the smiles and the positivity. The closeness.

He remembered having friends.

But he didn't remember more. Not about them. He only knew he had some. And they all Fell. And the ‘blessing' She gave to her angels was forgetting the Fallen ones.

So even if Aziraphale desperately tried to recall his long-gone friends, all he could remember were impressions. He recalled warmness and hugs and touches and laughs.

And that was all.

And it has been 6 thousand years since Heaven changed from the warm place Aziraphale adored to the cold, unfriendly, blank space with hard floors and stone-faced angels.

6 thousand years since that warmth disappeared. And 6 thousand years since Aziraphale had had a slightly more personal conversation with any other angel.

Because while he didn't like to think about it… well, he couldn't name one single angel he considered his friend.

Truly, Aziraphale didn't have many friends.

Ah, scratch that. Aziraphale had one friend. And he had spent 6 millennia trying to push him away.

Crowley was a light in the tunnel – although maybe ‘the shadow in blinding light of Heaven' might fit him better.

He was… insane. He always pushed himself in Aziraphale's space, he did crazy things, he was a demon.

Aziraphale should not – could not – be seen talking to someone like him.

And yet he couldn't stop hanging around. Because Crowley was there. He listened. He didn't glance at him weirdly for making small talk. He didn't ignore him when he wanted to talk about something. He didn't judge him for liking food or books.

He was… he was the best friend Aziraphale could ever ask for.

Maybe that was also his punishment. Having a demon for a friend.

He didn't know. He really didn't.

But what he did know, was that Crowley was right. They had their side, now. He had tried to deny it, but it was true – they were in this together.

They always had been.

And that was… a very warming thought. A beautiful, nice thought that was so different from everything he had ever felt in Heaven.

So maybe that was why Aziraphale said yes when Crowley offered him to stay the night.

Maybe because he… might have hoped – just for a bit – that he and Crowley might get to a higher stage in their relationship.

But no. He was not touched-starved.

***

Crowley's flat was gorgeous. Modern, new, sleek with hard edges and all black. And so Crowley-like. It looked very, very modern and a bit unused, but that just spoke more about Crowley. The demon was all about fashion and looking – ahh, what was the word? Oh yes – ‘cool’.

And then there were the plants. The most joyous plants Aziraphale had ever seen. Pretty, lovely, glowing!

They were the nicest, greenest and the liveliest flowers in the whole world!

"Don't you dare start blessing them, angel!" Crowley called at him from the living room.

Aziraphale blushed. Did the demon read his thoughts or something? He scratched his head.

"But they're so lovely."

"Yeah, and that's because I keep them in a straight line. Leave them be."

He promised Crowley he would, before discreetly petting these gorgeous beings and following the demon to his living room.

He found the demon rummaging through the fridge. Aziraphale noticed a comfortable looking black sofa but didn’t dare to sit down on it. This was Crowley’s flat. The angel wasn’t properly sure how to act.

Crowley must’ve found what he was looking for because he made a winning sound and turned around. He held two things in his hands and he proudly showed it to Aziraphale, happy grin lighting up his face and in the angel’s opinion, he looked like the cutest being in the whole world.

Even with the smudges of dirt all around his face and ruffled hair, he looked… nice and warm and positive and friendly and lovely and beautiful and adorable and – Aziraphale had to stop himself before this went any further.

He looked down to see what the demon was so happy about. An expensive-looking flask of Port Wine (yum) and… oh, dear.

“You keep chocolate cakes in your apartment?” He breathed out.

The Snake shrugged, suddenly looking slightly unsure. “I thought you might come over… sometimes… so I got it.”

Aziraphale looked down at the pastry and felt his heart swell.

He didn’t deserve this.

Come to think of it, he truly didn’t. The food, the smiles, the hospitability of Crowley’s flat, Crowley himself…

He has almost led the world to an apocalypse! He… he has never been a proper angel and now it seemed he… he might end up… not being one…

“Aziraphale?”

And oh, dear, he made Crowley nervous now.

“I- ah, yes, thank you, my dear.” He took the plate and slowly sat down on the couch.

Right. Collect yourself, Aziraphale!

The demon stood there for a shocked moment, before sliding to the seat next to him. He silently poured the wine into two glasses that appeared out of nowhere and Aziraphale tried to calm himself down.

It was stupid to think of these things. He knew quite well that Heaven didn’t like him. After the events of today, it was clear they were going to kick him out, sooner rather than later. And he knew he never truly liked Heaven in its new form, so why…

Why was he so saddened when he thought about it?

Why did he care?

They were on their own side now, just like Crowley had said. It shouldn’t matter if Heaven accepted him or not. And the question of if he deserved something or not was absurd. He didn’t do anything wrong, and if he did by Heaven standards, then that shouldn’t matter.

“Do you… do you not like the cake, angel?” 

The blond’s head turned around so fast his neck almost snapped. “What? What, Crowley, no – I mean, yes – I mean, It’s lovely!”

Horrified the demon could think such thing to be true and even more flabbergasted by the realization that he hadn’t taken a single bite, he quickly dug in, pushing the first bite into his mouth and moaning at the exquisite taste.

“Oh, Crowley. This is scrumptious!”

Crowley seemed thrown off but calmed down when Aziraphale gushed about the cake. His look of worry remained.

“If it’s not the cake, then what? Did something happen?”

Aziraphale shifted in his seat. “No, of course not.”

But that didn’t deter Crowley. It never did. The Snake frowned. “Angel… are you okay?”

He opened his mouth to answer. And nothing came out.

He tried again, this time only ending up gnawing at his lips.

It was stupid. It was so stupid! None of this should matter, none of it truly did matter, so why was his brain making everything so difficult for him? It shouldn’t even be able to do so, seeing as it wasn’t human!

– But Heaven will sure loath him by now, and –

-and without warning, Crowley’s arm snaked around his shoulders. The whole entirety of the angel’s body froze. His thoughts stopped in place.

The only thing he could feel was Crowley’s arm. Warm, careful weight on his back – a weight that was not leaving. Simple, gentle, but not feather-light. Not hesitant. It was there.

Crowley was touching him. Crowley was very close to hugging him.

No one-

No one has-

No one has ever-

The demon slipped next to him, the other arm joining its twin from Aziraphale’s front and pulling him close.

It took Aziraphale a second to realize Crowley was, indeed, hugging him.

It took him another to break down.

Heavy sobs spilt out of his mouth sooner than he could stop them. Tears clouded his eyes, making it hard to see. He put his hand over his mouth but it didn’t really do anything. He just cried.

Crowley pulled him closer and that made Aziraphale cry even harder. He couldn’t think about anything. Nothing. Just that someone was touching him and that it had been so long since someone held him this close, that he completely forgot how good it felt. How oddly familiar.

He-

He just-

He just wanted someone to love him.

Crowley gently shushed him and before Aziraphale could think further, he turned into him and pushed his face into the crook of the demon’s neck. He cried and shook and probably ruined the demon’s clothes. And Crowley just hugged him tight and let him.

He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to inconvenience Crowley like that but he just couldn’t stop-

\- And it’s pathetic, pathetic, useless, why are you acting like such a cry-baby? -

“Hey. It’s okay. It’s okay, angel. Let it all out.”

And so he did. He cried and cried and cried and stifling it only made him start sobbing again.

Crowley was silent. Through the whole thing, he simply held him. Patient. Kind.

Finally, as the sobs turned into muffled hiccups, the angel forced himself to face him. “I’m sorry, Crowley.”

The other blinked. He pulled a few inches away to give Aziraphale an incredulous look. “What for? It’s okay.”

Aziraphale avoided his gaze. “I… I’m… “

Crowley squeezed his shoulder, encouraging him to go on. Aziraphale found he couldn’t.

After a while, Crowley sighed. “Aziraphale, what happened?”

Well, how was he going to tell him nothing has? That it was completely stupid?

He shrugged, still looking away.

“Angel, c’mon. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I swear it’s not important.”

At this Crowley started to pull away. “Not important? Not imp- “

“No!” feeling Crowley’s arms leaving him left him cold. Panicking, he sprung forward, clutching the Snake as tight as he could. “Please, don’t leave,” He whimpered.

Crowley froze and Aziraphale could feel his entire body go stiff as a rock. Then he slowly, carefully put his arms around him.

“’Zira?”

Dang, it.

He squeezed his eyes shut, before pushing the words out. “It’s just – it’s just that no one has hugged me in a long time.”

Crowley was silent for a moment. “How long?”

He gulped.

“Angel, how long?”

“Um… ever since the Revolution…”

“The Big French Revolution?”

Aziraphale cringed. “N-no. The Revolution. At the Beginning.”

Crowley went quiet. Aziraphale felt the arms around his torso tightening and waited for Crowley’s reaction. But none came.

Finally, he pulled away so he could look into Crowley’s face. His eyes were obscured by his glasses but the way his lower jaw clenched and the flare of his nostrils made it easy to see Crowley was pissed.

“Um… dear?”

The demon pulled in a long breath. He gritted out the words through his teeth, his ‘s’ coming out long and sharp. “Are you telling me no one in Heaven has given you a hug? Ever?”

Aziraphale shrunk. “I, well, it’s not exactly considered proper amongst angels. Touching is more of, erm, your kind’s thing.”

Crowley stared. “My kind’s thing? Really? How about all of the humanity, then? What about them sharing hugs and handshakes and kisses and even dirtier stuff, huh?”

He gulped. “It’s not frowned upon in humans, but it’s… similar to food. I don’t- I shouldn’t need it. It’s considered unnecessary.”

Crowley’s eyebrows crawled up so high on his face they disappeared under his hair.

Aziraphale felt his lower lip starting to tremble. “It’s… a lot of stuff is ‘unnecessary’ nowadays. I’m not a proper angel by many standards. I’m certain they’ll… I’m sure after today they will certainly… well…”

The pieces seemed to click in Crowley’s head. He let out a whoosh of air. “You’re afraid they’ll kick you out.”

He turned to look over Crowley’s shoulder. “I mean; it’s not like they’d be in the wrong. I’m not a good angel. It is true I don’t need the food. Or the books, or my clothes or… or hugs,” his voice broke, “but I still indulge in them, even though they’re unnecessary for me and I know it, but I keep acting like this and it’s stupid, I know. It shouldn’t matter. But Heaven is just so cold now and… And I could be damned for saying this but… but… but Heaven used to be better Before…”

Was he going to Fall for saying these things out loud?

Even if he believed in them?

(Maybe part of the reason was that Before, he was with Crowley. Even unknowingly. But he was certain Crowley used to be an amazing angel. Probably kind and loving and warm, just like his hugs were, but Aziraphale could never remember and wasn’t that what torture felt like?)

“Angel?” The demon asked carefully.

He refused to look at him. He couldn’t. Not after all of that.

“Angel, look at me.”

Aziraphale gulped. “I know it’s stupid to even think about this, I- “

“Aziraphale. Look at me.”

He made a face. Then he complied and his eyes went wide in wonder as he realized Crowley had taken his glasses off. He was met with a startling pair of yellow eyes and they were… oh, they were wonderful.

Beautiful and magical, but most importantly, sincere.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley said, putting both of his hands on the angel’s shoulders, “cut the crap. You’re the best angel I’ve ever known. I don’t care if you like food or books or whatever, or if you have normal needs and want contact like all of us do, because that doesn’t make you a bad person. You’re kind and brave and amazing and nice enough to spend time with me and if Heaven has really grown so cold to think otherwise, they can go suck my dick.”

“Crowley!”

“No, it’s true. You shouldn’t care about what they say. Because you’re right, they’re probably kicking us out. Both of us. But I’ve told you already. We have our own side. The Angels have turned into posh bastards and down in Hell, it’s all about who can do more bullshit. None of us really belong where we are, but that’s fine. We’ve got ourselves now. And that’s all that matters, okay?”

Aziraphale blinked trying to stop the new tears pooling in his eyes. Unsuccessfully.

“Dammit, Crowley,” he mumbled, feeling weak, “you’re making me cry again.”

The Snake laughed. “I know. But I mean it. You shouldn’t take their crap any longer. They don’t deserve you, Aziraphale.”

The angel choked. He felt his cheeks heating up, but he couldn’t stop it. “I- that- you can’t mean that.”

“I do. You’re…” Crowley looked away, “you’re important to me.”

“Crowley,” He breathed out. He stared at his friend in wonder and amazement because there was no way Crowley was saying all of what he has said, there was no way he meant all of that, because if he did, then… then…

The demon continued to look at everything except for him. Aziraphale spoke again. “I… you’re important to me as well. Tha-thank you for saying all of that.”

Crowley still looked somewhere else, but Aziraphale could swear he saw him blush.

“It’s okay, angel,” he muttered in the end, “I’m just glad we’ll be free of them. Hopefully soon.”

Aziraphale stayed silent for a while, thinking about his words. He knew Crowley despised Heaven. He also knew he didn’t enjoy Hell too much. Hearing him publicly insulting Heaven didn’t shock him. It helped, even if Aziraphale felt guilty about it. But having calmed down, getting the tears out, it cleared his head and looking at the situation now, fortunately, didn’t bring more tears.

Still, however…

“Are you not going to miss them? Hell, I mean.”

Crowley finally looked at him. There was a flash of uncertainty, but his voice was hard as steel. “No. I’ve told you. You’re my side now.”

That was it. Aziraphale took one look at Crowley’s alluring eyes, the fluff of his hair, the clarity in his words and without thinking, finally, oh finally, kissed him.

It was awkward. And rather quick. Aziraphale pulled away moments after connecting their lips, feeling too embarrassed of his own actions. But the touch of Crowley’s lips lingered on his like sweet, addicting honey.

Crowley stared at him. His eyes were wide and round, his cheeks flaming red. He looked utterly flabbergasted.

Oh, God. Please, please tell me I didn’t mess everything up.

“You- you- you kissed me,” The Snake’s voice was small.

Aziraphale started to fidget. “I um, yes, I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t have, I definitely didn’t mean to bother you in any way, I simply- “

The rest was cut off as Crowley reconnected their lips again. Aziraphale clutched the fabric of his shirt making a sound at the wild urgency Crowley kissed him with. Then the demon cupped his face and he melted.

Crowley was everywhere. His hands, his lips, his chest underneath Aziraphale’s fingertips – he was there and he was kissing him and oh, God, that felt so blasphemous!

His lips were soft and plush and determined, kissing him with everything they had. And Aziraphale kissed back with the same urgency. He felt Crowley trying to tug him closer and understood the longing, the want, the need Crowley was kissing him with. Because he felt the same way.

It was bliss. Complete and utter bliss and he didn’t know how he hadn’t stumbled upon this human habit sooner.

But Crowley was kissing him and touching him and holding him and it was all Aziraphale ever wished for and more.

Pulling away hurt, but they didn’t go further than the needed distance to see in each other’s faces.

Crowley’s cheeks were painted red and Aziraphale knew he looked the same.

They simply looked at each other. Taking what just happened in. Because they have longed for this so long that for it to just happen was unthinkable. But it did happen.

“Wow,” The angel mumbled.

Crowley let out a hissy laugh. “Yeah, that summarizes it pretty well.”

Aziraphale blushed, looking away again. “So that happened.”

“So it did.”

They looked at each other.

“I wanted to do that for a while now,” Crowley admitted.

“I did as well.” He said softly.

“Probably not so long as me, hehehe…”

He was suddenly looking nervous. Aziraphale sent him a smile. “Maybe, but it doesn’t matter. Thank you, Crowley. For everything.”

“Oh-oh, ah, yeah…” The demon was the one to look away now. His cheeks were flushed red, almost as if he didn’t expect to get any love from him.

But Aziraphale had so much to give and for the first time, he could. For the first time, he could show his love. So he did.

He hugged him, leaning his chin on Crowley’s shoulder. “I’m glad to be on our side, dear.”

They huddled close. It felt warm. Warm and soft and nice – everything Heaven wasn’t for so long, everything Aziraphale had yearned for and he had it, right next to him.

The demon seemed to collect himself, his voice sounding sure once more. “I’m really, really, fucking glad too. We’re together. I won’t let anyone destroy that.”

“Okay.”

“And you should have told me you wanted hugs, angel. I’m going to hug you forever. Yes, good plan.”

Aziraphale laughed. “Guess I can’t complain…”

And so they held each other tight, snuggling into each other.

Things were still not over. They would have to deal with both Heaven and Hell. But right now, things were calm.

They were okay.

**Author's Note:**

> And there you go, guys!  
> Hope you enjoyed this, it's just a tiny little thing... poor Zira. At least they have each other.  
> I was inspired by a couple of tumblr posts, but I always thought Heaven looked so cold... and Aziraphale really needs a hug.  
> Hope you like it!  
> And if you'd like to see some more of my work, then come check me out over [ here! ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stigitsune_shipper/works)


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